Dancing in the Dark
by threebagsfulled
Summary: In a small secluded garden Spencer meets a young woman who might just change his life forever. A multi-chaptered Reid-centric story. Tentative romance and a grisly series of murders. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I am just borrowing them.

"Molly"

Prologue.

Reid stood in the shade of the giant Sycamore trees. He had a pounding headache and the cool breeze ruffling his hair was a godsend after the three hours he'd just spent in the overheated auditorium.

The small garden he stood in was old and overgrown with a deep border of shrubs and flowers. Wrought iron tables and chairs waited silently in the center of it for someone to use them. For a second he stood quietly enjoying the peace, then with a contented sigh he settled down in the shade to read.

Time drifted slowly, broken finally by the sound of running feet. A young woman burst in to view, hair streaming out behind her as she ran, a mischievous smile on her face. She slowed down at the sight of the garden, then with a laugh skipped down the garden path, spun around once with arms outstretched before flinging herself down on to one of the chairs.

Hidden by the shadows, Reid just stared, aware of the fact the young woman had no idea that he was there. She was beautiful with long, dark brown, wavy hair, lightly tanned skin and full, bowed, pink lips. She was wearing a white t-shirt and a long flowing gypsy style skirt in blues and purples and greens. Bare feet shoved in to old fashioned white tennis shoes completed the outfit. A hemp bracelet was wrapped around her left ankle, a knitted scarf in brilliant turquoise and lime green was knotted around her neck. Her fingernails were painted a bright neon blue. Reid grinned, Garcia would have loved the whole get-up. Not that he disapproved, no, on her it was … perfect.

"Molly, where the hell are you?" a voice suddenly bellowed from near by.

The young woman clapped her hands over her ears, but she was smiling.

"Molly?" the voice cut off abruptly as another young woman came striding in to the garden purposefully. Her brown hair was cut short and was wildly curly, she was small and slender and was wearing a severely cut dark blue suit. Low heeled no nonsense shoes completed her outfit and she was plainly furious. "What the _hell _ are you doing? Have you lost your _mind_ running off like that, I've been looking for you for _hours!_"

"Minutes," the young woman corrected under her breath.

"And I find you _here_ in this – awful, smelly, dark place!"

"Ricky, it's a garden! It's neither awful, smelly or dark, in fact it's wonderful!"

Ricky? Reid thought. His mind began to race. Rick, Eric, Erica – ah...

"Something could have happened to you – especially in a place like this! You could have been kidnapped, or murdered, or raped -!

"I wouldn't have let anything happen to her," he couldn't help himself, the words just slipped out.

Both woman gasped their eyes probing the shadows for whoever it was who was lurking there.

He unfolded himself slowly and stepped in to view.

"_You?_" Ricky exclaimed catching sight of him first. He sighed, he was used to it. He knew he was no ones idea of what a hero looked like.

"I'm with the FBI, I wouldn't have let anything happen to your – friend?" It came out more of a question than he had intended.

"The FBI?" Ricky echoed, her tone of voice quite clearly saying "_really?"_

He reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out his credentials, holding them up for her inspection.

"Huh – so you really are a fed," she said grudgingly. "The gun carrying kind?" she added after giving him the once over again, clearly still trying to reconcile the slender, long haired, bookish looking young man with her image of what a fed should look like.

He pulled back his jacket to reveal a brown handled gun worn high on the hip.

"There, you see!" Molly exclaimed, clapping her hands and grinning widely, "I was perfectly safe! And if Agent -" she paused looking up at him,

"Umm, Dr. Spencer Reid?" he supplied his voice going up at the end questioningly and Molly smiled to herself enchanted by his hesitancy, didn't he know who he was?

"Well, if Agent Dr. Reid will stay here a little longer to protect me, I can finish my lunch break _in peace!"_

"I'd be glad to," Reid said quickly, then blushed as Molly smiled at him.

The woman, Ricky, gave him a cold stare, then turned to her charge/friend? Reid wasn't sure just what to think.

"Fine then, 15 minutes!" she snapped.

"Twenty five," Molly countered gently, before adding "goodbye, Ricky!" then leaning her head back she closed her eyes and pretended to sun bathe until the tale tell click of heels walked away.

"She's gone," Reid said finally and the young woman giggled.

"Wow!" she exclaimed sitting up, "a real live FBI agent, huh?"

Reid nodded.

"I didn't know you were there..."

"I was reading," he held up his book.

"And it was peaceful and quiet until I came along!"

"Yes, no!" Oh hell, why couldn't he carry on a simple conversation with a woman? "It's o.k. I know them all anyway -" he broke off flustered, before trying again, "Um, your friend? She's very possessive of you -" great, now he was profiling - but the young woman just nodded her head, agreeing.

"It's her job, I suppose, she's my agent, keeper, manager?" she shrugged raising her delicate shoulders.

Her _what?_

Reid raised his eyebrows clearly at a complete loss.

"We're filming a movie – over there" she explained, waving a hand towards the direction both she and Ricky had entered the garden in. "She's just doing her job, keeping track of me."

"Oh." He licked his bottom lip, wishing he knew how to keep her talking. She had the most beautiful husky voice...

"So, Dr. Spencer Reid," she said drawing her legs up under her, "What brings _you_ here?"

His brain melted. A beautiful woman was talking to _him_ and no one was holding a gun to her head!

"Um...I'm guest lecturing and you don't have to call me Dr. Most people just call me Reid, although a few people call me Spencer or Spens, but -..." she laughed, effectively cutting him off.

"Well, Reid," she breathed his name silkily, "it's nice to meet you. I'm Molly Whittier." She tilted her head, looking deep in to his eyes as if expecting some kind of reaction.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Molly," he squeaked, and blushed again when his voice broke which she found charming and endearing and ...oh god, this man was attractive. And he didn't even know it she mused.

And he was beautiful, too. Tall and slender with deep, rich, dark chestnut colored hair that fell down past his collar in unruly waves. His eyes were the largest most gorgeous hazel puppy dog eyes she had ever seen.

"So, what does an FBI agent read?" she asked wanting to keep him talking.

"Poetry?"

And she couldn't help grinning, she loved the hesitant way he talked, turning everything he said in to a question. He couldn't be that insecure really, could he?

"Wow – heavy stuff!" she teased. It took him a moment to get it and he blushed again.

She titled her head and looked at him, really looked at him. He was wearing a dark gray tweed jacket over a lighter gray knitted vest. A pale pink shirt with some kind of dotted pattern on it was under the vest. The top button was undone and a dark blue tie hung loosely around his neck. Dark brown corduroy pants completed the absent minded outfit. She loved it.

"So what kind of doctor are you?" she asked curiously.

"The other kind," he answered automatically.

"The _other_ kind?"

"Ac..academic, not medical," he stuttered.

"Wow, a genius!"

"Yes," he answered matter of factly.

Her eyes flew open wide.

"You really are, aren't you!"

Suddenly shy, he licked his full lower lip and nodded.

"Cool."

He blinked myopically at her, surprised, and then he laughed out loud. He covered his mouth, embarrassed at his own outburst.

"No one's ever thought I was cool before," he said simply.

"Oh, believe me, Dr. Spencer Reid, _you_ are way cool!" And way to insecure for your own good she added mentally.

Here she was teasing and flirting with him just a little and he didn't seem to get it. She grinned. Dr. Spencer Reid did _not _get out much, that was for sure. He hadn't even reacted at all to her name, which was a little ego busting and...a little nice, too. And interesting now that she thought about it. Apparently he didn't watch movies, either. She wondered what he did do when he wasn't working.

"So what kind of poetry were you reading?"

He blinked, his thoughts somewhere else.

"Um...English? Tennyson, Wordsworth-"

She clapped her hands. "Really? Oh, it's been ages since I read any poetry!"

"Here," Reid found himself holding out the little red leather book to her – oh god, what the heck was he doing?

"Really?" she leapt up and skipped over to him. Their hands brushed briefly for a second as she took it. Bright green eyes stared up into hazel ones -

"Reid!" a male voice called out suddenly.

A tall, dark haired, military looking man in an impeccably tailored charcoal gray suit strode in to view. His eyebrows rose as he caught sight of them together. Self consciously Molly took a half step back holding the book of poetry tightly. The man radiated authority. He looked from her to Reid then back again.

"Ummmm, Hotch, this is, uh, Molly Whittier. Molly," Reid rushed on, "this is Supervisory Special Agent in Charge, Aaron Hotchner...my boss," he added softly.

"Miss Whittier," Hotch's voice was polite but distant.

Molly stared at Hotch for a second before she blurted out,

"Please tell me you don't go through all that -" she waved her hands, "name stuff _every _time you get introduced!"

And Reid couldn't help grinning. She sounded a little overawed, but then, Hotch did that to you.

"Yes," Hotch answered matter of factly, "we do. You have 10 minutes," he added looking at Reid again.

Reid nodded.

"Miss Whittier, it was a pleasure meeting you. Don't be late," he added to Reid.

For a moment Molly stared after him as he walked away, then she shook her head.

"And I thought Ricky was tough but she has _nothing_ on Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Aaron Hotchner, that guy is scary."

Reid laughed. "He really isn't that bad, not once you get to know him. He just hates the whole "guest lecturing" thing, if it were up to him he'd just let me get on with it, which would be a real mess," he added quietly.

"That bad, huh?" she asked grinning.

"Yes...I tend to get a little...carried away when I'm talking."

She laughed, she could see the young doctor getting a little too impassioned. She wondered what the scary boss man did to stop him.

"So what _are_ you lecturing on, anyway?"

Reid hesitated for a minute, "how the placement of bodies can be used as an indicator to determine a perpetrator's feelings about his victims...more or less."

"Oh, yuck!" she stared at the quiet young man in front of her for a second. "Uh, Reid, what is it that you do at the FBI, exactly?"

"I work for the BAU...the Behavioral Analysis Unit?" he clarified when she shook her head confused. "I'm a criminal profiler. I psychoanalyze crime scenes and study serial killers so I can get inside their heads."

Whoa. No wonder he didn't date much.

"I...I'm sorry, I really have to go," he added apologetically, picking up a messenger bag that had been lying in the shadows and slipping the strap over his head. "It was nice meeting you, Molly Whittier," he said softly.

"It was nice meeting you too...I'll take good care of your book!" she added.

For a long minute their eyes held then he turned and started to walk away.

"Uh, Reid?" He turned back quickly. "Will you be here tomorrow, too?"

He nodded, "yes, between 12 and 2."

"Do you like sushi?"

"Um, yes, I do..."

"Great! I'll bring a picnic, then, say about 12:30?"

"Uh - "

"Just say, 'yes, Molly'".

"Yes, Molly."

"Then it's a date!" and with a laugh Molly spun around and ran off down the path she had come in on leaving a thunderstruck young man in her wake. He had a _date?_

Dear Mom,

Reid wrote in his daily letter to her later that night,

I met the most extraordinary woman today -


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity. I am simply borrowing them.

**N.B. ** A brief note: "unsub" stands for unknown subject, or in other words, the criminal.

Two Months Later...

Chapter 1

"Observations"

Reid stood with his nose mere inches from the white board in front of him. Pictures of crime scenes and victims were pinned to it. He leaned in closer, myopic eyes focusing on the tiny detail in the photograph before him. Then he spun around suddenly, digging through the stacks of printouts that were strewn across the large table behind him. He found what he was looking for, stared at it, then turned back to the white board again.

Behind him sitting at various places around the table the rest of his team sat tiredly watching him, waiting for something, anything to coalesce in their genius' mind. They themselves had nothing left to give. They had been over the evidence so many times they were numb from it. Three couples, picked seemingly at random, had been slaughtered in their houses. They had been in Iowa for four days now and had come up with exactly zilch.

Hotch sat with his fingers steepled in front of him. He had loosened his tie and hung his jacket up neatly on a coat hanger beside the door hours before. He watched the youngest member of his team with a faint worried frown on his face. He worried about all of his team, that was part of his job, but he worried about the gifted young profiler in front of him the most. A genius with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words a minute, Reid was also the most socially inept, insecure, awkward bundle of nerves Hotch had ever met. He was also the worst dresser Hotch had ever seen.

Today the young genius was wearing a yellow striped shirt, his favorite mangy aran cardigan, a red tie with what appeared to be large white flowers on it and an old pair of blue cords. Hotch also knew there would be a seriously mismatched pair of socks on the young man's feet, not to mention the black and white Chucks. Idly he wondered if Reid would go psychotic if they snuck into his home and removed his vast array of ugly cardigans. The vests he could tolerate, but the sweaters...Hotch shuddered. Spenser Reid was quite definitely no fashion plate.

He was also completely unaware of how attractive women and some men, found him. Not that it mattered. Reid was so socially inept that he managed to chase off anyone who might have been interested in him in seconds...until recently, that was. The young woman, Molly Whittier seemed to have developed quite a crush on him, judging by all the late night phone calls he'd been answering surreptitiously while still at the office or on a case. He wondered if Reid was even aware of it or if he thought she simply _liked _him, as a friend...

Reid flopped down at the table massaging his temples, prey to another killer headache again. Then something caught his eye, he snatched up the piece of paper, leapt to his feet and started talking to himself as he stared at the white board again and so it would continue, his team knew, until he either saw something new or collapsed in exhaustion. But they were hours away from that happening, yet.

A few chairs down from Hotch, Derek Morgan was also watching the younger man intently. A small smile hovered around his mouth. He wasn't sure how _anyone _could possibly dress worse than Reid did, but he had especially outdone himself today and won Morgan $100 by doing so in the daily, "Reid Lottery".

There were actually two different "Reid Lotteries" running concurrently right now. The first one was centered on guessing which mismatched articles of clothing the genius would put together on any given day, but it had to include one of the hideous cardigans he was so fond of wearing. The second lottery, and Morgans' personal favorite, was based on a list of things that might happen to Reid eventually. Topping the list right now were – "getting beaten up by a pimp" and "getting hit by a bus" since he had managed to fall out of a second story window already.

If something weird happened while they were on a case, Reid almost certainly would be in the center of it. He already held the somewhat dubious record for having been held hostage, kidnapped, shot or shot at more than anyone else at the BAU, combined.

Morgan grinned, he'd just thought of something that wasn't on the "clothing" list...a suit. In five years he had never seen Reid in a suit, not even at Haley's funeral...maybe they just hadn't made one odd enough yet to appeal to the young genius. Hmmmm, what else? They'd had to cross off "never been kissed" when that young T.V. starlet Lila something or other had kissed him several years ago, but Morgan was relatively certain that Reid was still a virgin – not that he'd add _that _to the list...a girlfriend, however, _was _still on the list but Morgan was starting to wonder about that. There had been a subtle change in Reid lately, a bit more self assurance and he thought that once or twice lately Reid had gotten phone calls while on a case...hmmmm, he'd have to ask the girls on the team if they'd noticed.

At the far left end of the table over by the door, Agent David Rossi was also studying the young man. He held a grudging respect for Reid but found his quirks and mannerisms tiring. The borderline autistic genius simply wore him out...but there had been the subtlest of changes in him lately – a woman? Rossi studied the young man idly, could be, hmmmm, interesting. He wondered if Hotch knew.

At the far right end of the table Emily Prentiss was watching all of them, her sharp black eyes roaming over each one in turn. If her gaze landed on Rossi the most, well so be it, she was intensely attracted to him and he knew it. Too many times he'd looked up and caught her staring and lately he'd been holding her eyes just a little longer than was necessary. But, god help her, he was just soooo sexy in a dark, brooding Italian kind of way. And he was smart. Cunning smart, just like she was. Years ago he'd been one of the founders of the BAU. He'd come out of retirement when Jason Gideon, another one of the founders, had suddenly and inexplicably retired, leaving the team foundering after his abrupt departure. But oddly enough it had been Hotch, not Rossi, who had glued the team back together again.

Her eyes drifted to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Now there was another handsome man but in a different way than Rossi. They didn't call him Captain America for nothing. Tall, dark, chisel jawed and wide shouldered he was the poster boy for an all American. He had been a successful prosecutor before changing careers and wedding himself to the BAU. After his wife, Haley, had been murdered he had given up all pretense otherwise. Simply put, Hotch _was_ the BAU.

Her gaze shifted farther down the table to the team's player, Derek Morgan. He was also a handsome man by anyone's standard, hiding a world of hurt under his perfectly sculpted body and rakish demeanor. He flirted with everybody, kept his flirtations short, fast and furious and was fiercely loyal to his fellow team members especially Reid. Not dumb by any means, having graduated Summa Cum Laude from Northwestern, he was still the acknowledged muscle on the team, although Hotch sometimes beat him to it when it came time to kick down doors.

And then there was Reid...Her gaze narrowed sharply as she stared at him. There was just no help for it Reid annoyed her intensely. She didn't know what it was about him that annoyed her the most, his autistic quirks or his annoying genius.

O. k. so he couldn't help being smarter than just about everyone else on the planet but it just annoyed the hell out of her anyway. The autistic quirks, which made her want to scream, came with the genius package, she knew that, but did he have to be socially awkward, too?

And then there was his habitual disregard for his own personal safety that made him a danger to himself and everyone else. Privately she didn't think he belonged in the field. Someone always had to be keeping an eye on him and when their attention wavered the results, while desirable in that they usually resulted in the capture of the unsub, were almost always brought about at a cost to his own personal or mental health. If she were running the BAU the Spencer Reids' of the world would not be a part of it...except, she had to admit, that without Reid their success rate would be about half of what it was. His intuition and mental leaps had saved too many victims and caught more monsters than she wanted to think about. It was unnerving the way he pulled connections out of thin air and made them gel somehow, and now they were waiting for him to do it again. Waiting for him to make that incomprehensible mental leap. God she hated it and at moments like these she really, really disliked him even more for making her feel so inadequate.

And then there were his damn cardigans, she shuddered, and the way the rest of the team hovered over him like protective nannies...except for Rossi. Rossi didn't molly coddle their resident genius. In fact, come to think of it, mostly Rossi avoided Reid, just like she did. Maybe Reid would grow up if they just let him stand on his own two feet. He was a grown man for god sakes! And attractive, too, in his own way if you liked the slender model type, which she didn't. Her gaze drifted back to Rossi. Now there was a man you could sink your teeth in to.

And then Reid's cell phone rang.

The whole team zeroed in even more intently on him. No one ever called Reid except for one of them...

"Dr. Reid," he answered absentmindedly. And then a blush feathered across his cheeks and he laughed out loud.

Hotch thought – it must be Molly.

Morgan thought – a woman most definitely.

Rossi thought – well that's interesting, and Prentiss just stared at him in disbelief. It was the first time _ever _that she'd seen Reid act, well, normally. There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever that it was a woman on the other end of the line and that she'd just said something dirty.

"Hey gorgeous," the husky voice had teased and Reid had laughed out loud even as a blush flushed his cheeks. Intensely aware of his whole team staring at him avidly he had walked as nonchalantly as possible out through the conference room door before answering,

"Molly!"

She giggled.

"I'm working!"

"Poor Reid."

He leaned up against a wall and smiled happily. Molly always made him feel happy.

"Yup, poor me, and it's _Sunday!"_

"Which makes it different from Monday, how?" she teased.

"Two letters," he countered, "s..u -"

"Case has you stumped, huh," she interrupted gently.

He sighed, "yes...and no. There's something right there, but it's just out of reach -"

"You need to eat."

He blinked his mind having started to drift along a different path entirely.

"It's, uh..." he glanced at his watch, "only 5:30."

"Uh huh, so what's for dinner?"

Reid shrugged even though she couldn't see him.

"I don't know, pizza?"

"Yuck. You need brain food. So...how many of you are there?"

He blinked. _Brain food?_

"Um...six if you include JJ who's around here someplace."

"You don't want to forget JJ," she teased before adding "so how bad's the headache?" She could hear it in his voice. She always knew when his head was pounding.

"On a scale of 1 to 10? About a 7..."

"Ow," she said sympathetically.

But just talking to Molly made it hurt less somehow...

"So, uh, how's Tahiti?" He asked hoping he had the right location for her whereabouts.

"Remote," she answered dryly, "and hot and sweaty."

"Sounds lovely."

"Yeah, if you like sand in your teeth!"

"Ummm, can't say I've ever tried it."

"You've never been to a beach?"

Reid shook his head. "Not too many beaches in Las Vegas."

"Oh, we are _so_ going to remedy that! When's your next vacation?"

Reid laughed. "What's that?"

"Reid!"

He laughed again, then caught sight of Hotch walking back in to the conference room. He sighed, he hadn't even seen him leave.

"Time to go?" she asked catching his sigh.

"Time to go," he agreed wishing it were otherwise.

"Later," she said simply and hung up her phone.

"So?" Morgan asked the second he walked back in to the room.

"So, I think there's something we're missing about the houses..." The entire team stared at him blankly. He grinned inwardly.

"Reid -" he cut Morgan off, his mind already sliding from Molly to that niggling feeling.

"There's something -" he grabbed up the photographs of the house fronts and began pining them to the wall. Before he was done Molly was long forgotten...

"Uh, Agent Reid?" a young desk sergeant poked his head in through the doorway sometime later.

"Dr. Reid," came a chorus of voices. Reid flapped a hand.

"Yes?"

"Your dinner's here?"

His _what?_ He looked around as the man slipped in to the room with a large cooler in his hands. Rossi quickly cleared a place in front of himself for it.

"Uh, what do I owe you?" Reid asked, patting his pockets in an effort to locate his wallet. He'd had no idea anyone had ordered dinner already or stuck him with the bill for it.

"No charge, sir," the young man answered sidling towards the doorway, "a, Miss Whittier, already paid for it."

_What?_ He looked at the cooler confused. Molly had sent him dinner – from _Tahiti?_

"Miss Whittier, huh?" Morgan asked teasingly as Rossi said, "Well, let's see what's in here – ah, sushi," and Reid laughed.

"Brain food!...Molly said I needed brain food," he explained quickly.

"_Molly_, huh?" Morgan said, his grin deepening. "Molly Whittier..." and then his smile faltered. "Oh no, no way...we're not talking _the _Molly Whittier are we Reid? Like as in the movie star -"

"Yes," Hotch answered dryly for Reid, who was blushing deeply. "_The_ Molly Whittier."

"Oh man," Morgan said laughing out loud, "what is it with you and movie stars, kid?"

Prentiss just stared at him in disbelief. Molly _Whittier_ was seeing Reid? She glanced over at Rossi who was grinning, too.

"It's a good thing everyone likes sushi," he said, lifting container after container out of the cooler. "It seems Miss Whittier sent enough "brain food" for everybody."

Prentiss sat back finally, too full to eat another bite. Besides the sushi, there had been a rather incongruous chocolate cheesecake. It seemed that Miss Whittier obviously knew that Reid had a very sweet tooth.

Molly Whittier...she shook her head and stared at Reid. What the hell did someone like her see in Reid? She squinted at him trying to figure it out. O. k. so he was attractive and brilliant and she was beyond gorgeous and one of those rare actresses who was achieving greatness because she could actually _act _not just look good on screen...which meant she was probably brighter than most of them, huh...

Reid happened to glance up just then and caught her staring at him. A shy, tentative smile curved his lips – oh _damn_ him and his puppy dog eyes! - and she grinned back despite herself. He really was model gorgeous, she thought grudgingly...and so damn insecure it made her want to gag. And then his eyes slid past her to the white board and flew open wide. He was on his feet and moving in an instant.

"They're green!" he exclaimed. "The houses, they're all painted green, the same _color_ green!"

His hands started flying through the papers on the table in front of him.

"The Mecklers, they withdrew a large sum of cash a week before they were murdered - $2,900.00 and the Smythes-" more papers flew around beneath his long slender fingers, "here - $3,200.00-"

"The Wrightsons withdrew $2,700.00," Morgan added holding up a different bank printout.

"I guess there's something to be said for 'brain food' after all," Rossi said dryly but Reid wasn't listening he was speed dialing his phone.

"Hey, Garcia, you're on speaker," he blurted out quickly as their blonde tech analyst answered, "I need any records of painting contractors who worked on the vics homes recently -"

"Ah – that would be -exactly none, sweetie -"

"Thanks, Garcia," he said frowning.

"Then it's time to ask the neighbors if they remember seeing any paneled trucks in the vics driveways recently," Hotch said standing up.

"Uh, Hotch...it's 8:30 p.m.," Morgan pointed out.

"Good, then they'll all be home, more than likely. Rossi, you take Prentiss, Morgan, Reid, JJ you're with me." They were moving quickly as Hotch assigned neighborhoods to each of their teams. If Reid was right they'd have their killer in no time.

And he _was_ right, again, thankfully.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I am just borrowing them.

_He smiled. He was just that smart, and they were just that dumb. Look at them, each one so sure of his own importance that they were ruining the crime scene tramping through it on their way to take a look at the empty, lifeless carcass he had left for them. God this was perfect, better than the circus! He had seen one, once, years ago. His dad had taken him. The best part had been when an aerial walker had fallen to his death right in front of him. He had laughed out loud and clapped his hands at the crumpled bloody wreck of a man, neck broken, head a bloody, gory mess, eyes staring sightlessly right at him. His dad had squeezed him on the shoulder, gently. Dear old Dad, he had understood the rush he had felt, completely._

_ He flexed his fingers and looked around. So many gawkers, yesssss! He looked back at the cops. Ah, what a comedy! Now the detectives were arguing over jurisdiction. This particular alley was the border line between two districts. And he had done it on purpose, just to watch them... They were so damn easy to manipulate. So predictable, unlike him. He hadn't fallen in to the "serial killer trap" as he fondly liked to think of it. He didn't really care who the victim was, it was more about desire. When the desire hit he simply acted on it. He pushed his hands deeper in to his pockets. It was getting cold. Ah well, he'd seen enough, time to go home and fix something good for dinner. Maybe a Beef Wellington with new potatoes and baby green beans on the side, and a nice chocolate souffle for desert? Yes, that sounded about right and Dad would enjoy it._

Chapter 2

"So who is he?"

"So who is he?" Allie Whittier asked smiling at her daughter knowingly.

"Who is who?" Molly countered innocently, batting her eye lashes.

Allie laughed, "I'm your Mom, sweetie, mom's know when their kids are seeing somebody, so spill the beans."

Molly rolled her eyes, "Mo-om!"

"Don't you 'Mom' me!"

A small smile crossed Molly's lips slowly getting bigger and bigger. "O.K.," she conceded finally, "his name is Dr. Spencer Reid, he's 28 and -"

"A doctor! You're seeing a _doctor_!" Allie squealed.

"Not _that_ kind, Mom! He's a Phd!"

"You're dating someone _brainy?_"

"Mo-om, please!" Molly laughed enjoying her mom's teasing. She missed being home when she was away on location someplace. She missed the closeness she shared with her.

"So, is he cute?" Allie prodded.

"Oh yeah...and he doesn't even know it."

Allie laughed. "Men always know when they're good looking."

"Not Reid, trust me."

"You call him Reid?"

Molly shrugged, "everyone calls him Reid..."

Odd, Allie thought.

"So, what does your handsome Dr. Reid do?"

Molly grinned. "He works for the FBI!"

"You're dating one of the _'Men in Black'_!"

Molly started laughing helplessly.

"What?" Allie demanded, "_what?_"

"N-no!" she choked out finally, "he doesn't look anything like that! He's tall and thin and dresses more like an absent minded professor or...or a geeky nerd!"

For a second Allie just stared at her daughter as if she'd lost her mind completely. She was dating a guy who dressed like a geeky nerd?

"Where on earth did you meet him?"

And with lots of giggles Molly told her mom about their first meeting and the subsequent lunches she'd shared with him.

"You've shared five lunches with him, and that's it?"

"It's not like I've been home, Mom! I mean, I just finished two months of filming a movie half way around the world! And he's not home a lot either. But we talk on the phone, a lot...I love listening to him talk..."

Allie watched her daughters' eyes go dreamy. Wow, this Dr. Reid must really be something.

"So when do I get to meet your 'not' Man in Black?"

Molly glanced at her watch. "How does half an hour sound," she said slyly.

"Half an hour!"

Molly laughed. "He just got back last night from working a case so he has the next few days off, and I haven't seen him in two _months_!"

"So, what are you feeding Dr. Wonderful, it's almost time for lunch," Allie asked smiling, trust Molly to spring a boyfriend on her this way.

"I've got it covered, just answer the door when he gets here...oh and Mom? He is _beyond_ shy, o.k.?"

Could he get any better? A shy, geeky nerd, Allie thought dryly. Wonderful. No, she amended, a shy, geeky, good looking nerd.

"So where's he coming from?"

"Quantico."

A two hour drive for lunch? He must really like her... Allie smiled, well good for Molly. It wasn't like she met a lot of guys she wanted to date, she hoped this Dr. Reid was as special as she seemed to think.

"Mrs. Whittier? I'm Spencer Reid?" the young man in question said hesitantly when she answered the door a short time later.

"It's nice to meet you Spencer," Allie said pleasantly, stepping aside so he could come in. Oh dear, Molly's Spencer was more than just a little bit shy, and every bit as good looking as her daughter had said he would be.

Dressed in a dark gray tweed jacket, a mauve shirt patterned with small flowers, a dark burgundy tie, a navy blue cashmere vest and tan corduroys he looked exactly like an absent minded professor. Tall and on the slender side, he was attractive enough to have been a model...or a movie star, she thought wryly, right down to the long hair that brushed the collar of his jacket. His lips were full and he had enormous hazel eyes that right now were heavily bruised from fatigue. He looked exhausted and she wondered what it was he did exactly for the FBI, he couldn't have looked less like the infamous 'Men in Black" if he'd tried to.

"Molly's back here," she said leading the way down the long hallway to the huge sun drenched kitchen, where Molly stood at a center island chopping celery while singing along to the radio. Reid paused in the doorway watching her, his eyes drinking her in. Oh god, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. And then she looked up and they simply gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Reid," she breathed finally as he whispered "Molly," and there was a world of yearning in their softly spoken words.

"I missed you," he said simply, crossing the distance between them.

"I missed you, too," she whispered back softly and as she slipped her arms under his jacket and around his slender waist it seemed to Allie as if the weight of the world slipped off the young man's shoulders. He hesitated for a second before hugging her back gently and for a minute they just stood there lost in their own worlds, before he let her go again.

"God, Reid, when was the last time you slept?" Molly exclaimed taking a good look at him.

"Really slept? I don't remember," he said honestly. "I caught a few hours on the plane on the way back and a few more last night-"

"You shouldn't have driven up here -"

"I'm fine, Moll," he said smiling. "I'm a lousy driver, I wouldn't have risked it if I'd been too tired."

"You can always stay the night here," she said grinning slyly.

He laughed. "I wish I could."

"But not tonight, right?" she said sighing exaggeratedly before turning back to her chopping.

"I have a meeting I need to go to."

Oh.

"So, you wanna help chop?" she asked brandishing a knife.

"Ummm, no." Reid answered pulling out a counter stool and sitting down.

"Can I pour you some wine?" Allie asked moving over to the island and pouring herself and Molly each a glass.

"Um...no thank you, Ms. Whittier...although some water would be nice."

Allie smiled, "Spencer, please call me Allie."

"Yes, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes and he blushed. Oh my...,

Much later Allie chased them out of the kitchen in to the sun room.

"Go," she shooed. And they went, fingers twining as they walked away. A smile crossed her face, they made a handsome couple and Molly's Dr. Reid had turned out to be not so shy after all. Her smile deepened. She knew exactly what had attracted Molly to him. He was a lot like her brother, Micheal, another supremely gifted young man, though not in Spencers' league she suspected. No Dr. Spenser Reid was probably in a league all his own.

When she peeked in on them later it was to see Molly sitting on the floor on a pile of giant pillows, back up against the couch, reading from a small red leather bound book as she ran her fingers through Reids' hair. Reid was sprawled out sound asleep beside her, his head in her lap, looking like he was all of 16. Allie slipped silently away, a smile on her face, as far as she was concerned Spencer Reid was a keeper.

5


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

_The problem with winter was it rained. A lot. And who wanted to kill someone in the _rain?_ He drummed his fingers on the table, knowing how annoying he was being. He was waiting for someone to tell him to stop, but they didn't, they just threw him angry glances and then looked quickly away. Ah well, he thought getting up and stretching, little did they know today was their lucky day. If someone _had_ complained he would have killed them. Well, not here in the coffee shop, but outside in the parking lot. A quick knife in the ribs as they got in their car … oh he could almost feel it. Good thing there were plenty of coffee shops, and he had all day..._

Chapter 3

_Early January_

"Who is he?" - reprieve

"What do you mean you're not going with anyone?" Ricky raged. You _have_ to go with somebody! It's the Golden Globes -"

"I already told you, no!" Molly was fast loosing her own temper. They had been over all this before, she was _not_ going _anywhere_ with some smug, vain, conceited -

"Martin Riley is one of the hottest -"

"No."

"Best looking, -"

"No."

"Young actors around and he -"

"_NO!"_

The two women glared at each other.

"I am _not_ going with Martin Riley or anybody else! End of discussion."

"Fine!" Ricky hissed through clenched teeth. "But you are _not _going to the Oscars alone, do you hear me, Molly!"

"Fine!"

For a minute the two women just stared at each other before Ricky nodded her head. She had won the important battle at least. Now to go sweet talk Martin Riley into taking her to the Oscars instead of the Globes...damn Molly, didn't she understand she needed her face splashed all across the tabloids with some gorgeous guy and hints of a love affair?

"She's driving me crazy!" Molly exclaimed. "She's trying to match me up with Martin Riley!"

"What do you want me to do, Moll, shoot him for you?" Reid asked laughing

"That would work," she grumbled, "or you could go to the Oscars with me!" she added flippantly.

_What?_ Reid stared at his phone. He could not have heard her right.

"Oh god," she added softly, "how could I have been so stupid! Reid, that's it! And it's the perfect place!"

The perfect place...dear god, she was serious!

They'd talked about his "coming out" as Molly had put it, before. Talked about manipulating the time and the press and the place to make it easier on him, but they had _not_ talked about the_ Academy Awards_. He closed his eyes. The Academy Awards with half the world watching..._this_ was the perfect place?

"Reid, it really is perfect, think about it. There's so much happening at the Oscars, it wouldn't just be about you and me...we'd just be a small part of it..."

"Molly, I don't-"

"Reid!"

O.k. She had a point, the focus wouldn't be on them, entirely...he opened his eyes slowly. This was crazy, _he _was crazy to even be considering it...

"I need to talk to Hotch," he heard himself say. What if they were in the middle of a case?

"Conference room in two," JJ said giving him a curious look as she dropped a folder on his desk.

"Molly, I- "

"Have to go," Molly finished for him, she'd heard JJ. "But you'll think about it, right? And you'll talk to Hotch?" she added softly.

"Reid?" she prompted when he didn't answer right away.

"Yes," he promised and for a brief instant he wondered if he could get away with "Dad, can I take Molly to the Academy Awards ceremony?" as his opening statement, before he dismissed it for several reasons, the first being Hotch really didn't like it when they called him 'Dad'...

He couldn't concentrate. He'd been staring at the same sheet of paper for the last ten minutes while Molly's words chased themselves around his head over and over again. He tossed the offending report on to the seat beside him, damn it!

"Hey, kid, you alright?"

He looked up in to the concerned face of his best friend. No, he wasn't alright, but Morgan wasn't the person who could help him.

"Yeah," he said rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine. I just...I need to talk to Hotch."

Morgan leaned out into the jet's aisle and looked towards the back of the plane. "So go talk to him, he's alone right now."

Right...

"Um, Hotch? Can I ask you something?" Reid asked nervously sitting down in the empty seat opposite him.

"Of course," Hotch said, setting aside the file he'd been reading. It had only taken one look into the young genius' troubled face to get his full attention.

"Umm...it's Molly-"

Well, that was unexpected.

"She's asked me to go to the Academy Awards with her," he blurted out.

Hotch sat perfectly still staring at Reid. She'd asked him _what?_ His mind reeled. He hadn't even known they were dating...not _really_ dating. Talking on the phone, yes, but – the _Academy Awards! _Then they were _way _past their first date, way past first base. When had their relationship moved from friends to...no not lovers, he would have noticed _that._ He gave Reid a long hard look, no, Reid was still a virgin, still an innocent. The look in his eyes was one you didn't loose until – _damn!_ He did _not _want to have to think about Reid having sex or the effect that _that _revelation was going to have on his genius brain. But the way things were heading it didn't look like he was going to have much choice in the matter. Damn! Well they would just cross that bridge when Reid got to it...

He scrubbed a hand across his face trying to get his thoughts together.

"Reid, I can't tell you what to do," he said finally. "But you do understand what it means?"

"Um..." Reid vacillated, unsure exactly what Hotch was getting at.

"It means coming out in public and saying you're her boyfriend!"

Reid stared uncertainly at Hotch, was that a bad thing?

"And it's not just that," Hotch went on, "it's giving up your privacy, it's grocery store tabloids and the paparazzi shoving cameras in your face!" It was a disaster was what it was and he didn't know if Reid could handle it. He didn't know if the _Bureau _could handle it. And then there was Strauss, she'd have a freaking cow...

Hotch rubbed his eyes again. He did _not_ need this right now. What he needed was Reid's head in this case.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked searching Reid's face, after all it wasn't really his decision to make.

Reid looked away from Hotchs' piercing gaze. He didn't know what to say. He licked his bottom lip. "I'm not sure about anything," he admitted finally, looking back at him again. "Except...except that I think I'm falling in love with her, Hotch..." he shrugged helplessly, "and I don't want to have to sneak around to see her, or hide it from anybody."

Hotch sighed, the kid had it bad..."Then we'll work it out," he said quietly, and god help them all, he thought tiredly...although maybe...just maybe they could find a way to manipulate the press before the Awards show... Hmmm, he'd have to ask JJ about it.

A relieved smile crossed Reid's face, "thanks Hotch," he said getting up.

"There's just one more thing," Hotch added.

Reid turned back.

"You're going to need a tuxedo."

For a second the young genius just stared at him, bewildered. "I'll need a _what?"_

A rare smile crossed Hotch's face.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured him, "I've got a good tailor, we'll get you fitted out when we get back," and Hotch's smile deepened at the look of pure horror on Reid's face as he realized the full implications of that. Hotch was taking him _shopping_? Oh, Rossi was so going to want to get in on this, Hotch thought grinning, as Reid bolted to the other end of the plane. Maybe they'd get him a whole new wardrobe while they were at it. One that did not include cardigans... but either way they'd make sure that Reid looked like a million bucks when he walked down the red carpet with Molly.

_Mid January..._

"Hey, Reid, get over here!" Morgan called urgently staring intently at a large screen that was hanging in the hotels' lobby. Reid looked around from where he was fixing a cup of coffee to see what was the urgency and noticed two things immediately. The first was that the entire team was staring at a large T.V. and the second was that an anorexic entertainment reporter was talking animatedly at what appeared to be some kind of awards ceremony.

"And here is Molly Whittier looking stunning in a custom pale blue Dior gown made just for tonight's Golden Globe's appearance," she was saying excitedly, "she was due to arrive with her "Entangled" co-star, Martin Riley, but rumors are flying around the awards ceremony right now that the reason she has arrived alone is that she has a real life 'beau' and did not want her fans to mistakenly think there was anything going on between herself and Riley. Let's see if we can't get a quick word with her..."

"Molly! Molly is it true, everyone wants to know, do you have a boyfriend?" the reporter asked breathlessly.

Molly smiled serenely. "Yes, it's quite true, and" she continued sincerely, "we would both like to thank the press for being so, understanding, in respecting our privacy."

"Oh nice," said Rossi, "who thought that one up?"

"JJ," Hotch said grinning.

"For manipulating the press so magnificently," Rossi said raising his glass in a toast to her. She grinned back at him.

"Well," the reporter conceded smiling a little bewilderedly, "we certainly respect your privacy -"

"You will now," Prentiss said grinning.

"Thank you," Molly said gently before moving away, the interview concluded gracefully.

"Nice," said Rossi, "_very _nice_._"

"Thank you," JJ replied, "you have no idea how much fun it was coming up with a way to leak 'the boyfriend' to the press."

The 'boyfriend' put his head in his hands. "Why couldn't she have been a nice...hairdresser, or something?"

"A hairdresser!" Prentiss exclaimed. "A hairdresser would have run away screaming right after you said hello. Assuming you managed to _say_ hello-"

"I don't know, Emily," Morgan teased, "I've met a few smart, sexy hairdressers, if I'd known that was what Reid was looking for-"

"All right, children," Hotch cut in firmly, "leave Reid alone."

"Yes, Dad," they chorused insincerely and Reid groaned. He didn't mind their teasing, not really, it was what loomed ahead that terrified him. All those reporters, all those people...he swallowed hard, he could do this. He was an FBI agent for god's sake! He carried a gun and he stared down bad guys every day. How hard could it be to stare down reporters?

_Early February..._

"Sir? Can I talk to you a minute. It's about Dr. Reid." Hotch asked as he stood in the doorway of the Deputy Directors' office. The DD looked up, concern written large on his face. Hotch knew he had a special relationship with Reid and he was counting on that to secure his help with what he thought of as 'the Academy Awards fiasco'.

"Yes, of course. Is everything alright with Spencer?" the DD asked worriedly.

Hotch stepped into his office and closed the door.

"Everything's fine, sir," he reassured him quickly, "it's just that he's about to do something that's going to thrust him into the public eye fairly spectacularly," and he went on to tell the DD about Reid dating Molly.

"Molly Whittier, huh?" the DD said smiling slightly. "Well, good for him. So what was the real reason you wanted to talk me?" And Hotch proceeded to tell him about the upcoming Academy Awards ceremony.

For a minute the DD sat deep in thought before saying, "We can deal with that. What else?"

"Unit Director Strauss," Hotch said quietly.

"Ah." The DD thought for a few minutes before smiling. "I do believe that Judy and I will be hosting an Oscars' party this year and I'm relatively certain Erin won't want to miss it. Will that do Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes, sir," Hotch agreed. That would do very nicely.

_Late February..._

The black SUV waited only long enough for it's passenger to step inside the sprawling beach house before it sped away down the quiet street. The slender blond man who had answered the door noted briefly that it had had government plates before turning his full attention to the young man who stood before him.

"Dr. Reid?" he asked, smiling pleasantly.

Reid nodded.

"I'm Johnathan Freem, Molly's dresser, and housekeeper." Reid felt Freem's eyes sweep over him, and the man smiled in satisfaction as he led Reid back to the main part of the house and down a hallway. Molly had told him her beau was gorgeous, but she'd been off by about a country mile Johnathan thought smiling, he was way more than gorgeous, or he would be.

"We're a little pushed for time," he added, "so," he said opening a door, "I'm going to suggest you take a quick shower, while I press your clothes. There's a private bath right though there, and Dr. Reid, please don't shave," he added.

For a minute Reid just stood there, a little overwhelmed, but Freem was already taking his tuxedo out of his bag and making tsking noises over the creases in it. Suddenly he looked up and said, "Well, what are you still doing here? Go!" and Reid went, relieved in some small way to simply be following orders.

Reid had just finished dressing when Freem walked in. He felt awkward in the formal white shirt and black trousers and he had no idea how to tie the weird tie. Freem paused, studying him, head cocked to one side.

"What?" Reid asked, made uncomfortable by the man's intense stare.

"Undo your top button," he ordered. "Hmmm, better... ditch that tie..." He rummaged through Reid's 'go' bag and pulled out a deep purple one. "Here put this one on. Yes, much better," he said nodding.

Then he yelled "not so tight! It needs to _complement _the unbuttoned collar...yes!" He tipped his head back to the side. "You were wearing a dark gray cashmere vest when you got here," he mumbled before rummaging through Reid's clothes again, "here, put it back on."

Reid did as he was told completely bewildered.

"Yes," Freem said nodding his head in satisfaction, "yesssss. Now just slip on your jacket and we'll..oh my," he stopped talking as Reid slipped on the new shoulder holster Hotch had bought him, checked the load in his Smith and Wesson, and holstered it.

"What?" Reid asked, alarmed by the look on Freem's face.

Freem gestured at Reid's weapon, "You...you're going to wear that?"

Reid nodded. "Yes."

"Oh," Freem breathed. Then he took a deep breath and squeaked, "Well, let's see how it looks with the jacket on."

Reid slipped into the specially tailored tuxedo jacket.

"Oh my," Freem breathed approvingly, "you have an excellent tailor, Dr. Reid, you can't tell you're wearing a weapon."

That's a good thing, Reid thought privately, because he was pretty sure the tuxedo hadn't been cheap. Hotch and Rossi hadn't let him pay for it, it was a gift, they'd told him, from the whole team.

Freem's head tilted to the side again. "We're still missing something..." He poked around in Reid's bag again before he stood up smiling, a purple scarf in his hands. He flung it carelessly around Reid's neck and said, "Oh yes..."

"Now, just slip your jacket off for a minute and I'm going to trim your 'five o'clock' shadow, but I think we need to leave most of it..." When he was finished and Reid was ready Freem grinned at him. "I do believe that when the night is over the most talked about item at this years Oscar's will be you and Molly."

Reid swallowed hard, oh god, he hoped not...

"Don't even _think _about touching her!" Freem squeaked a few minutes later as a nervous Dr. Reid stared awestruck at Molly. She was beyond beautiful dressed in a shimmering gold, off the shoulder, dress that fell in waves around her feet. Her hair had been pinned up in a tumble of curls that cascaded down her back like frothy waves.

"Molly you look beautiful," he breathed.

"And you, Dr. Reid, look very gorgeous, yourself" she told him sincerely. Oh lord, gorgeous be damned, he was beyond sexy, somehow Freem had made him look both suave and scruffy at the same time...

"Alright children, eyes on me please," Freem interrupted. "There are just a few things we need to run through briefly. In order to protect your privacy as much as possible once tonight is over we're going for the classic movie star aura, look but don't intrude.

"Now you may hold hands," he went on briskly, "and you, Dr. Reid, may place a hand on her waist. Molly you may lay a hand on his arm, but that is as much touching as I wish to see."

"A bulletin will be issued to the press as you walk down the red carpet revealing your identity Dr. Reid, so by the time you're in the interview area everyone is going to know you're an FBI agent. I know your press liaison has briefed you on what you may and may not say, so keep to your script. Be charming, be gracious and be brief."

"Now, the car is here and, Dr. Reid, please don't forget to breath," he added dryly.

The team was gathered in Rossi's ample living room enjoying the fine food and drinks their host had provided. The huge T.V. was tuned to the awards show and they were having a good time commenting on all the stars as they arrived and made their way down the infamous red carpet, waiting for Reid's "moment of doom" as they had dubbed it.

In an even larger living room, in a different part of town, a different group had gathered to watch the awards show. Alcohol had flowed freely and every now and again the DD and his wife, Judy, shared a private smile as they waited for a certain young couple to arrive at the famous Kodiak Theater.

"We're awaiting the arrival of Best Actress nominee Molly Whittier, nominated for her role in the motion picture "Entangled." Molly has recently set the entertainment world on it's ear by admitting to having a mystery boyfriend..."

The cameras cut away from the commentator to a limo that had just pulled up. For a moment the doorway remained empty before a tall, slender young man got out. The DD nudged his wife's arm.

"Oh my god..." the commentator breathed, "I do not know who that is, but he is gorgeous! Mark, find out who -" her voice trailed off as a radiant Molly Whittier got out of the limo after him. For just a second, they stood smiling at each other before he twined his fingers in hers and they turned to face the crowds that lined the walkway.

"Oh my god!" echoed Emily, JJ and Garcia as Reid stepped out of the limo. They were stunned. Their nerdy genius looked...just like a movie star! How had that happened? How had they never noticed?

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a grin and Morgan hooted, "way to go, Pretty Boy!"

"No!" exclaimed Unit Director Strauss. "That can not be..._Reid?" _She stared in horror at the screen. "John," she said looking at the DD, "I had no idea -"

"Reid?" echoed Judy, "you don't mean that _that's_ Dr. Spencer Reid? Oh my..." she fanned herself, "Erin, how on earth do you get anything done with _that_ to look at all day!"

The DD laughed. "They certainly make a nice couple," he said, as if the fact that one of the FBI's top profilers strolling down the red carpet at the Academy Awards with a gorgeous movie star on his arm was something that happened every day. And then he squeezed his wife's hand gently.

"Mark," bellowed the commentator, "find out who he is! Oh my god...!"

Reid and Molly walked slowly down the carpet smiling at the fans. Molly waved with one hand while keeping her other one tightly entwined in Reid's. Half way down the carpet they paused and he slipped an arm around her waist, looking for all the world as if he did photo ops every day, then they walked on, hand in hand again.

"Mark!" the announcer was almost weeping in frustration "find me something –"

"We've just received a bulletin from the Federal Bureau of Investigations, " a male voice cut in to the live feed. "It seems Ms. Whittiers' boyfriend is 29 year old FBI Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. He's a graduate of Cal Tech where he received, wow, _three_ phd's and is a native of Las Vegas, Nevada."

In the living room of the DD's house Unit Director Strauss poured herself another drink.

In Agent Rossi's living room a cheer went up at the announcement.

On the red carpet Dr. Spencer Reid looked a little surprised when someone holding up a pda yelled out "I love you Dr. Reid!" and then he laughed as Molly said something to him privately.

_In a suburb not far away from all the evenings hoopla a young man leaned forward as he stared at the T.V. An FBI Agent? How...interesting. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. If there had been anyone else there in the room with him they would have noticed how intensely he was staring at nothing. The FBI, he mused thoughtfully, looking back at the couple on the screen again. Now that might be a game worth playing, he thought grinning, but how to begin it?..._


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I am just borrowing them.

_He had laid his trail so perfectly that even the idiots on the Hollywood force had been able to realize they had a serial killer in Hollyweird. And it had been so much fun watching their bumbling antics, adding new victims one by one until the Brass had had to admit defeat and call in the 'Big Guns' and now the BAU was here...he wondered how long it would take before the cops over in Beverly Hills realized they had a serial killer, too..._

Chapter 4

Breadcrumbs.

_** 11 a.m. **_

"Agent Hotchner? I'm Detective Tolliver, thank you for coming," the balding, middle aged man said sincerely shaking Hotchs' hand. Behind him heads turned as the officers and detectives of the North Hollywood division caught sight of the BAU team. Lips curled in disdain. Like they really_ needed _the damn feds interfering. Then one of the officers leaned over and nudged his partner. The younger man grinned. Well, well, look who the cat dragged in...

"Detective, these are SSA's Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan. Our press liaison Jennifer Jareau and Dr. Spencer Reid our expert on everything." Hotch replied introducing the team.

"Especially movie stars," someone said loudly.

Tolliver spun around, "_Sullivan!"_ he bellowed warningly, but the man in question wasn't paying any attention to Tolliver, he was watching Reid instead.

"Um, no, not really," Reid said shaking his head as if it had actually been a question. "I don't watch many movies actually."

For a second the room went completely still as the officers stared at Reid in disbelief, then the phones which had gone silent started ringing wildly again.

Oh good grief, thought Prentiss could he _be_ any more naive?

JJ bit her lip to keep from grinning.

Rossi and Hotch exchanged a look and Morgan laid a hand on Reids' shoulder.

"What?" asked Reid, confused by the whole thing, but Hotch just shook his head. "Nothing," he said quietly. Then turning to Tolliver he added, "If someone could show Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau where to set up, the rest of us would like to see the crime scenes."

"Uh, yeah," Tolliver answered, wondering exactly what it was Reid did on the team. Could he be any blonder? "The conference room's right over there...and uh, I'll talk to Sully about bothering Reid," he added so only Hotch could hear him.

"I'm more concerned about the media than any of your men." Hotch said bluntly.

Ah, hell, thought Tolliver, the press, great, that was all they needed.

"How long do you figure it'll take before someone tells them he's here?" Hotch added.

"With that lot," Tolliver said jerking his head towards the bullpen, "they probably know already."

_** 1 p.m.**_

"So what have you got?" Hotch asked striding in to the conference room several hours later followed closely by Rossi, Prentiss, Tolliver and Morgan.

Reid shook his head. "Nothing that makes any sense," he said glancing up briefly from the paper he was reading.

Tolliver rolled his eyes, great, the _airhead_ was their analyst?

Rossi stared at the young genius closely. "Nothing?" he queried in disbelief.

Reid shrugged, pinched the top of his nose, then rubbed his eyes before flopping down into a chair and saying, "What we have are four identical murders, in four identical locations that are so clinically detached and sterile it's like the unsub was...bored or something."

"Bored?" Hotch echoed, clearly disturbed at Reids' terminology.

Reid nodded. "I don't know how else to describe it, Hotch. Each vic was stabbed once with a quick, clean downward thrust between the third and fourth rib straight through the heart. The wounds were precise ensuring a quick kill. There was no emotion involved. No anger, no hate...no anything. And there was no apparent motive, either. Nothing was taken from any of the scenes. Money, phones, laptops, nothing."

"What about a geographical profile?"

"There isn't one. The locations are scattered up and down Ventura Boulevard."

"Victimology?" asked Rossi.

"Nothing there, either. The first vic was a white male, Ronald Blithe, 35, an accountant with a medium size firm downtown. The second, EmmyLou Larson, was an African American woman, 55, manager of an upscale lingerie shop. The third was an Asian woman, Donna Filips, 22, a graduate student at UCLA in drama and the fourth, Enrique Espanola, was an Hispanic gardner, age 29."

"An equal opportunity unsub," Prentiss said sighing.

"And as far as I can tell the vics paths never crossed anywhere either."

"These crimes are too polished, too...practiced." Morgan said slowly. "He had to have started somewhere else. There's no learning curve here." He reached for his phone punching a speed dial button. "Hey, baby girl," he said when Garcia answered. "I need you to look up any unsolved stabbings in the last...six months in the Hollywood area."

"Your wish is my command, oh delicious dark one. I'll be right back."

"Delicious dark one?" Rossi said rolling his eyes, "that's a new one."

"All right," Garcia said a few minutes later, "in the Hollywood area I have...one and it looks like it was gang related."

"Garcia try in the surrounding towns say in a thirty mile radius," Reid suggested.

"And the brainiac comes up...smelling like roses as usual. I have forty two. That includes pretty much all of The Valley."

"Great," sighed Prentiss. "Bring them on Garcia. I can hardly wait to start reading."

When Reids' phone rang a short while later he answered it without checking the read out.

"You're on speaker, Garcia, what's up."

"I suppose it would help if I _were_ Garcia," came the familiar husky voice recognizable to millions around the world.

Grinning widely Morgan called out, "Hi Molly," and before Reid could snatch up the phone her laugh rang out across the room. "That _has _to be Morgan!"

Emily and Prentiss burst out laughing and even Hotch and Rossi grinned.

"_Molly!"_ Reid exclaimed, turning his back on the team for a little privacy.

"Serves you right," she teased. "So where are you gorgeous?"

"L.A." Reid said still flustered.

"You're kidding!"

"Um, no..."

"Where?" she demanded.

"North Hollywood?"

"Good! Then you can meet me for dinner!"

How could he - and then his mind cleared. "You're here?" he exclaimed.

"Yes," she laughed. "So, can you meet me?"

"Um -"

"Wait! Bring the team, too."

"What?"

"The team...bring the team, my treat, eight o'clock at Torellies." And she hung up on him. For a minute he just stared at the phone.

"Trouble in paradise?" Morgan teased.

Huh? "um...no, I just didn't know she was also in L.A..."

"And?" Morgan prodded.

"She invited us to dinner..."

Morgan leaned back grinning. "Did she now...where and when."

"Um, eight o'clock at Torellies?"

"Torellies!" Rossi exclaimed.

"I take it that's a good thing?" Morgan asked him.

"Trust me," Rossi agreed grinning broadly. "Especially if she's paying. What do you say, Hotch?"

"I say that only gives us three hours to finish up here, then," Hotch said gesturing at the pile of papers they hadn't read yet.

Deliberately Prentiss picked up her stack of papers and added them to the stack in front of Reid. "I'm done," she said grinning.

"Hey!" Reid squeaked.

"What?" Prentiss shot back.

"Then you can have half of mine!" JJ said quickly dividing her pile and slipping half of them in front of Prentiss.

"Can they do that?" Morgan exclaimed.

"It looks like they just did," Rossi said drily.

"Damn..."

"All right, so now we know where he started," Morgan said several hours later, rolling his shoulders. "But I don't see it helping things any." They had tracked down the unsubs' first kill months before, but things made even less sense now than they had to begin with.

Hotch looked around the table. "I think we're done here for now," he said shaking his head. "Let's head over to the hotel and freshen up before dinner." He stood up stiffly. "Then we can get a good nights' sleep and start over again in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." Morgan agreed. One by one the team gathered up their things and headed for the door. Hotch paused in the act of turning out the lights when he realized Reid was still working. "Reid, we're leaving!"

"I'll be along in a little bit, there's something I want to check out," the young genius mumbled, hunched over his laptop, fingers flying over the keys.

Morgan shook his head. "Then you're gonna miss dinner with your own girlfriend."

He was – _what?_ Molly! He'd forgotten. He scrambled to his feet and Morgan grinned at him. "Sometimes I worry about you, kid," he teased.

_** 8 p.m.**_

The valets didn't even try to park the black SUV's, they simply directed the two behemoths into the shadows where they couldn't be seen from the street. Torellies was known to be discreet in everything.

"Ah, ladies, gentlemen," the maitre d' greeted them. "This way if you please," he said without even inquiring as to who they might be. Rossi smiled at Morgan, this was definitely his kind of place. "And will you be drinking this evening?" he added after seating them at a secluded round table at the back of the restaurant.

"Yes, we'll be drinking," Rossi assured him.

"Excellent," the maitre d' said smiling. "Henri will take your orders."

"Where's Reid?" Prentiss asked, sipping gratefully on a bourbon a short time later.

"Saying a private hello to Molly, I imagine." Hotch said eyes on the menu. "And although I know I don't have to, may I remind you all to please behave yourselves? Because in case you haven't noticed this menu has no prices on it which means it is well above your pay grades and Ms. Whittier is very kindly paying for dinner."

"Speaking of the devil," Rossi added softly.

"Supervisory Special Agent In Charge Hotchner!" Molly exclaimed grinning.

"You're going to do that every time you see me, aren't you," Hotch said sighing.

"Yes, _Aaron_, I am." She said wickedly. "And you must be David Rossi," she added winking at Hotch before turning towards Rossi.

"Oh I like you already!" Rossi exclaimed.

"Of course you do," she replied saucily and Rossi laughed.

"And _you_ are quite definitely Morgan," she said fanning herself. "Is it getting hot in here, ladies, or is it just me?"

"Molly!" Reid exclaimed as Morgan burst out laughing.

"I _definitely _like your lady, Reid!"

"Molly, I'm JJ and this is Emily," JJ said grinning. "And Garcia is going to be _so_ mad she missed out on meeting you."

"Oh, we can remedy that!" Molly said grinning conspiratorially. "How about a ladies night out next time we're all in D.C.?"

"You're on!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"Why is it," Rossi asked "that I wish I were going to be a fly on the wall for that?"

"I have _no_ idea at all," Molly said innocently, slipping her hand into Reids' under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Well at least they don't drool on each other," Prentiss said later that night on the drive back to the hotel. She, JJ and Morgan were alone in one of the SUV's. Hotch and Rossi were in the other. Reid and Molly had disappeared together in the back of a discreet black Lincoln.

"Drool?" JJ asked.

"If I was dating Molly Whittier, trust me, I'd be drooling." Morgan said laughing.

"We're talking _Reid_ here, guys!" JJ said defensively.

"Yeah, we are." Prentiss agreed sighing. "I wonder when he's going to figure out what girls are for," she added idly.

"_Emily!_"

"What?"

"Oh I imagine he'll figure it out when the time is right," Morgan said grinning. "Just like the rest of us."

In the SUV in front of them a similar conversation was going on.

"So what do you think?"

Hotch glanced at Rossi. "About what?"

Rossi looked sideways at Hotch. "About Molly and Reid is what!" he said exasperatedly.

"They make a nice couple."

"They make a _nice couple! _Aaron, in case you haven't noticed your boy genius is growing up!"

"And just as long as he doesn't choose tonight to do it we'll be alright."

"And what happens when he does "choose to do it"!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." And god help all of us...


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

Chapter 5

_ He was enjoying himself immensely, watching the BAU work his case. The best of the best. It was so...gratifying. He wondered what they thought so far of his little game, he wondered if they even knew they were playing...he smiled, white teeth shining in the sun as he watched them.  
_

"I wonder when our baby boy is going to crawl into work today?" Morgan was saying, a grin on his face, as he and Prentiss walked into the conference room the next morning. He stopped dead two feet into the room and stared at the mayhem in front of him. "Whoa! Someone's been busy!" he exclaimed.

Folders were stacked in untidy piles all over the conference table and Reid was writing frantically on one of the white boards.

"Uh, Reid, what the hell are these?" he asked gesturing at the folders.

"Every unsolved murder in the Valley, Beverly Hills and the West Hollywood areas." Reid answered still writing.

"_Every _unsolved?" Hotch queried coming in with the rest of the team right behind him.

"Yes," Reid answered.

Hotch looked at the stack of folders. "Alright, Reid, talk to us," he said quietly.

"Remember yesterday when I said the first murders were _clinical?_" Reid said whipping around to face them. "That's exactly what they were!" He waved a hand at the crime scene photos pinned to the white board behind him, "they were carried out systematically one after the other so even the blindest cop could figure out there was a serial killer at work here!" He went on hurriedly. "Same jurisdiction, same M.O., same signature. The unsub _wanted_ to be sure the police realized they were dealing with a serial killer so they'd have no choice but to call us here!"

"And it worked very nicely, too," Rossi said dryly.

"Why did he want us here?" Hotch asked sharply.

"Because he wanted to play a game with us! Look!" Turning, Reid grabbed a pile of new crime scene photos and added them as a separate grouping beside the first ones. "_These_ murders," he said pointing at them, "were committed across _multiple_ jurisdictions, but in two cases they share the _same dates _as the original stabbings, but unless you were looking for them you would never have found the pattern! He's been committing overlapping cluster murders for weeks!"

"Uh, Reid, those are shootings -" Morgan pointed out, as Prentiss said, "Cluster murders?"

"Groupings of murders that share an identical M.O." Reid said impatiently. "The stabbings are one cluster. The shootings are another, which at first glance appear to be random acts of violence until you group them together...each one was a single gun shot to the back of the head and in each case the vic was getting into his or her car in an alley parking lot."

"Sounds familiar." Hotch murmured.

"How could we have missed them?" Tolliver asked.

"Because you had no way of tying them together!" Reid exclaimed. "They were spread out across different jurisdictions."

"But when you put them together," Morgan said slowly, "you get clusters within clusters."

"To me it just looks like you have two nut jobs on the loose." Tolliver said shaking his head. "What makes you think it's the same guy?"

"Time of death!" Reid said excitedly. "Look!...The single gun shots to the head were all committed around 8 a.m. The stabbings at the coffee shops were all committed around noon."

"You've lost me," Prentiss said shaking her head.

Reid glanced around the table.

"Slow down a minute Reid," Hotch said quietly.

Reid nodded and rubbed his eyes taking a minute to collect his thoughts.

"O.k. … look!" He spun around, cleaned a space off on the white board behind him and wrote:

8 a.m. shoot someone.

Noon, stab someone.

"Oh damn!" Morgan muttered.

"Murder by rote," Rossi said watching Reid intently, a slight frown on his face.

"And you think there's another cluster out there somewhere," Hotch added quietly, gesturing at the files piled all over the place.

"Yes...no... Yes! I think there's another cluster out there...and it will have a different M.O. and the murders will have taken place around 4 p.m. But there's something else going on. Something I can't put my finger on."

"What makes you think that?" Rossi asked intently.

Reid rubbed his hands rapidly over his face before running them through his hair. "Because these first ones..." he gestured at the original crime scene photos, "they were just the breadcrumbs to get us here. The unsub could have cared less about them. And these," he gestured at the second cluster on the white board, "it's like they were just a test to see if we were paying attention. To see if we'd caught on yet! But any profiler would have found them sooner or later...so there's something else, something besides another cluster...something he doesn't think we're going to find because he's sure he's smarter than we are..."

For a second it was very quiet as the team just looked at him, trying to catch up. He'd given them too much information and they recognized the symptoms. Reids' brain was on fire and coupled with the frantic, nervous gestures, he was ready to crash and burn.

"Reid – did you go back to the hotel and sleep last night?" Hotch asked quietly.

_What? _Reid blinked. When had night turned to morning?

"Um, no." He admitted impatiently. "I wasn't tired. I wanted to look up some things so Molly dropped me off back here instead. But I'm fine, Hotch -"

"No, you're not." Hotch interrupted firmly. "You need sleep. Morgan take him back to the hotel-"

"But -"

"Reid," Morgan cut in, "you're not going to win this argument. Get your things, we're leaving."

"You did good, kid, but now it's our turn," Rossi added smiling.

"But -" Reid tried again.

"Goodnight, Spence," JJ said shaking her head.

"Since there's no point in any of us wading through those," Hotch said gesturing at the piles of folders still waiting to be read, "while Reid's asleep I want the rest of us out on the street. Rossi, Prentiss you take the coffee houses. JJ, you and I will talk to the families of the shooting victims. Morgan once you're back at the hotel get on the phone with Garcia find something we can go on. Reid, these files will be waiting for you when you wake up."

"So what did you find out?" Hotch asked as the team reassembled later on in the conference room. Gliding in quietly behind the others Reid sat down in front of the stacks of folders and opened the first one.

"Our unsub is a nondescript youngish male who likes to tap his fingers on tables. He may drive a white compact American made car." Prentiss told him.

Tolliver watched as Reid ran a finger down the center of the first page, turned it over and did the same to the next five pages after it before closing the folder and reaching for the next one, only to repeat the same finger trick on the first page of _it_ as well.

"We found two witnesses who thought he might have exchanged words with other patrons about the tapping." Rossi went on. "One of the witnesses is almost certain that one of the altercations took place with Donna Filips, the grad student. She was trying to write a paper and the tapping was breaking her concentration. The witness said she asked the unsub to stop nicely several times before becoming angry. The witness also said that the unsub seemed to think it was 'entertaining' when she got mad."

"Tell me he's not actually reading that fast," Tolliver asked Morgan.

"Reading, comprehending, filing, comparing, you name it, he's doing it, which is why none of us started in on the files earlier."

"What else?" Hotch asked.

"The employees thought he might have come in a time or two but he wasn't a regular." Rossi replied.

"They were sure that he paid in cash but no one could remember what he ordered." Prentiss added.

"What about you, did you find anything useful?" Rossi asked.

"No. I think the shooting victims were chosen completely at random. They were simply in the wrong place at the right time."

"The wrong place..." Reid muttered suddenly looking up. "The wrong place..." he leapt up and stared intently at the white board. "No, not the wrong place, the wrong _date!_"

Then, whipping around he started digging through the folders that were stacked on the table until he found the one he was looking for.

"It's the wrong date!" he repeated. "It's not the 11th it's the 1st!" He turned back to the board and rearranged the order of the shootings.

"Reid, what the hell are you talking about?" Morgan asked.

"The fourth shooting, we wrote it down as being on the 11th but it wasn't it was on the 1st! Look, the coroners' pen didn't work. See...he was scrubbing at the paper that's why there are two marks on it! Brian Smith was killed on the _first_!"

"And this is important why?" Prentiss asked.

"Because our unsub is killing on a Fibonacci curve...I just didn't see it before!"

"The Da Vinci thing?" Morgan queried.

"Yes...only it's not part of the geographical profile this time," he answered, alluding to a previous case, "it's...it's part of the game he's playing! Look!"

And quickly Reid wrote the beginning of a Fibonacci curve on the board:

1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21

"The same as the _dates _he killed his victims on," Hotch murmured.

"Exactly!"

"Marisa Marston and Brian Smith were both killed on the first." Rossi said nodding.

"And Elmore Nutely and Evan Dent on the 2nd and 3rd" Prentiss added. "But the first two stabbing victims, Blithe and Larson were also killed on the 2nd and 3rd -"

"That's because he's overlapping his clusters!" Reid said, excitedly, "but he continues the curve with Filips and Espanola on the 5th and the 8th!"

"Who the hell would know what that Fibonacci thing was?" Tolliver asked bewilderedly.

"Someone studying math." Reid said squinting at the white board myopically.

"So the unsubs' a college student?"

Reid nodded absently. "More than likely."

"Did you find another cluster yet?" Morgan asked.

What? Reid dragged his mind back from the direction it had been heading.

"Uh, yes." He answered digging through a stack of papers on the table again. Then turning back to the white board he pinned up two more pictures. "Our unsub's found the thrill of strangling."

"Sarah Riley was found strangled to death on the 5th in an alley in West Hollywood. Parker O'Doul was found on the 13th. Either the vic on the 8th got away or they haven't found him yet..."

"And today is the 21st..." Rossi said sighing.

"Which means if he continues his pattern we can expect another strangling in West Hollywood and..."

For a minute the room went silent.

"And this..." Reid said very quietly adding another set of pictures to the board. "She was found on the 13th in Beverly Hills."

"Ah hell," Morgan breathed softly.

"Talk to us Reid, what the hell is the game that this guy's playing!" Morgan demanded angrily.

Reid shook his head. "I don't know..." he said quietly. "It's almost as if his early kills were just for his own entertainment. But then something changed. Something happened. Something caught his interest."

"When was this?" Rossi asked.

"Late February as best I can tell."

"His first killings," Reid continued, "the _very_ earliest ones, he was just playing..._learning_ to kill. They were all one off murders with no rhyme or reason or pattern. A testing of the waters so to speak. But then something made him invent his...game. It's almost like he suddenly decided to see if anyone was paying attention. With the coffee house murders he was saying, 'hey guys, look over here you've got a serial killer' they were a message for the police. But the shootings...remember, he started with those first, they were a message for_ us_, like he was taunting us -"

"Or waiting to see if we could put two and two together." Hotch said grimly.

"Trying to catch our attention." Rossi nodded.

"O.k. so now he's got it...what's next?"

"Now we stop him." Rossi said.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's back up a minute." Hotch said quietly. "What happened at the end of February? What was his trigger?"

"It had to have been a major event." Prentiss said.

Tolliver looked at them in surprise. "You're kidding, right?" Six pairs of eyes stared at him. "This is _Hollywood_...the Academy Awards happened!"

"So I was the catalyst," Reid said quietly.

"Whoa, you don't know that, kid!" Morgan said quickly.

But Rossi nodded. "That seems about right. He'd been playing games for months without anyone noticing, and he was feeling pretty smart. Then he sees you on T.V. and bingo! He decides what he really needs is a challenge. What he needs is the FBI to play a game with."

For a moment it was quiet.

"It wasn't your fault, kid." Morgan said gently.

"I know." Reid answered. Sooner or later the unsub would have spiraled out of control with or without having seen him.

"Detective Tolliver we're ready to give a profile now," Hotch said quietly. "And when we're done we'll need to brief Beverly Hills and West Hollywood. Rossi take Prentiss to West Hollywood, Morgan, you'll be with me. Reid, there's a pattern here someplace, find it! JJ call a press conference. The public needs to be put on the alert that tonight a killer will be walking the streets." 

Hotch looked out at the faces of the men and women in front of him. Their resentment at the presence of the BAU was palpable.

"The unsub is a white male between the ages of twenty and thirty," he stated getting the ball rolling.

"There is nothing whatsoever that stands out about him." Reid took over. "He'll be of average height and build with no outstanding characteristics at all. No one would ever look twice at him. A chameleon if you will."

"He drives an inconspicuous car. Most likely a conservative American made coupe." Prentiss added.

"He has an above average I.Q. and is a student at one of the local Universities, most likely studying mathematics, or he was. It's quite possible that he recently dropped out." Rossi continued.

"He's a loner with few, if any social skills." Morgan added. "He makes people feel uneasy whenever he's around."

"He enjoys annoying people. Getting a rise out of them." Reid said tapping on a desk for emphasis and not stopping when he was done talking.

"Like that," Hotch said when the officers in the room began to get restless. "Exactly like that."

"It's how he picks his victims out. He waits to see who asks him to stop it," said Prentiss.

"So we're looking for an annoying white guy who's a nerd?" Sullivan asked grinning.

"We're looking for a serial killer," Rossi corrected.

"My name is Jennifer Jareau and I will make a brief statement before taking your questions."

"Is it true that Dr. Reid is part of the team the FBI sent here?" Someone shouted when she was through with her official statement.

"Is he a profiler?"

"Does he carry a gun?"

"Has he ever killed anyone?"

"Well that went well," Morgan said when the press conference was over, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think a single reporter asked a question about the serial killer..."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

* * *

Chapter 6

_ How dare they! Who did they think they were, warning people to stay off the streets tonight of all nights, he raged, slamming his fists down on the table. Now look at what they'd done! The peas were in the mashed potatoes, what would Dad say when he got home? _

_ His brows furrowed, they _couldn't_ have figured out his time line already. The men and women he'd been watching weren't smart enough to have figured out anything, no, that meant there was someone else... someone smarter...Smarter than he was? NO! No one was smarter than he was. He was a genius, Dad said so. _

_ He smiled, so, this agent X thinks he can take me on, does he...well let's see just how smart he is then..._

"Agent Hotchner, we have a problem," Tolliver said hurrying in to the conference room. "West Hollywoods' just found a body."

Hotch glanced up at the clock. It was only 2:15 p.m.

"A copy cat?"

"I...don't think so," he said not quite meeting Hotchs' eyes. "It's a young man in an alley, he's been strangled."

"And?" Hotch prompted. There was something Tolliver wasn't saying.

"And there's a message for you...carved into the vics belly."

For a minute the room was silent.

"Reid, you're with me," Hotch said abruptly, moving towards the door. "Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, eyes open on this one." Damn it! He would have preferred leaving Reid here working his analytical magic safely away from the press. But he didn't have any choice in the matter. He needed Reid at the scene.

Eyes open, thought Morgan, meaning their primary purpose would be shielding Reid from the media so he could work the crime scene without their damn cameras in his face. It was a hell of a way to work a case.

"What do you see?" Hotch asked, glancing down at Reid who was crouched beside the body completely focused on what he was seeing, oblivious to the yelling reporters _or_ their cameras.

"He's a twenty something year old Caucasian male." Reid said turning the victims head. "The marks on his neck are consistent with strangulation. I'm guessing a rip cord, or something like that." He lifted one of the victims' hands. "No defensive wounds." He patted the man's pockets and withdrew a wallet. "Sixty...two dollars and credit cards all here. His name was Jerry Lenover. He was 23, another graduate student...from Southern Cal."

Reid rocked back on his heels, a frown on his face.

"What?"

"He goes, what, about 220, 230 pounds? Hotch this man was a hell of a lot bigger than any of the other victims. He should have fought back... Can you give me a hand?"

Crouching down Hotch helped him roll the man over on to his side. "He's been stabbed."

Reid nodded. "A single thrust straight to the kidneys." They laid him back down.

"That explains why he didn't fight back, " Rossi commented.

"What about the message?" Morgan asked.

Carefully Reid pulled up the mans' t-shirt. Carved across his stomach were the words. "The Golden Rule...Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"The Golden Rule" Reid said shaking his head.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Morgan supplied.

"I know what it is, but it doesn't make any sense unless the unsub wants us to stab, shoot and strangle him."

"Reid! Your phone's ringing," Rossi said shaking his head while Reid stared out the window of the SUV as they sped away from the crime scene.

It was? He fumbled it open.

"Dr. Reid," he mumbled disoriented, his mind far away.

"Hey," the husky voice breathed.

Glancing in the rear view mirror Hotch saw the lines of concentration fade from Reids' face. There was only one person he knew of who could claim Reids' attention that completely.

He backed off the gas a little.

"What?" Rossi asked noticing the slowing of the SUV.

"Molly," Hotch said quietly, jerking his head towards the back seat. Rossi glanced back. "Ah," he said in understanding.

"Hey, yourself," he answered quietly, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into the seat.

"Rough day so far?" She asked softly.

"Yes," and he couldn't help the sigh that escaped.

"I guess the press conference didn't help things any..."

"I didn't see it."

"That's probably just as well, it was not Hollywood at it's finest."

"I heard."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes," she said sighing, "it is. After all, if you'd been dating let's say, a sexy hairdresser instead of me it never would have happened."

_What?_

"Morgan _told _you about that?"

Molly laughed. "Of course he did...and trust me, you do _not_ want me messing with your hair...unless, of course, I'm running my fingers through it," she added huskily.

Reid swallowed hard. "Molly, don't do that..."

"I guess you're right," she purred, "after all, that _is _a government phone you're using, and you never know just _who_ might be listening."

And he couldn't help but laugh.

"_You_ are evil, you know that woman?"

"Of course I do," she said sounding like a Cheshire cat. "But I _did _get you to laugh..."

"Reid," Hotch said in warning, they were almost back in North Hollywood.

"I heard," Molly said before he could tell her. "So, I guess I won't be seeing you tonight," she added quietly.

"No," Reid said regretfully. "Not unless something breaks."

"Then here's to breaking something," she joked and he smiled despite himself.

"To breaking something," he agreed.

"The Golden Rule..." Reid paced restlessly back and forth across the conference room talking to himself. "The Golden _Rule? _The _Golden _Rule... The Golden..."

"What we need is a name." Morgan said sighing pushing away a pile of papers he'd been staring at.

"So find one." Hotch said darkly.

"What do we know about this guy?"

"He is or was a math major," Reid contributed, still pacing.

"Alright I guess it's a place to start... Garcia?" Morgan said when she answered her phone. "I need a list of every Math major for every university in the area. Then cross reference them with dropouts this past semester."

"You're wish is my command, be back in a jiff!"

"The Golden... something else..." Reid muttered.

"We've got six." Garcia said coming back on the line again.

"Now cross reference them with late model, light colored American sedans."

"And that would leave us with...three. Aaron Brewster, age 25. Jordan Lester, age 27 and Mark Drake, age 24. No priors on any of them. Brewster is currently working as a middle school teacher in Pasadena. Lester is working at the zoo, go figure and...Drake isn't working anywhere."

"I need an address."

"And I've got one for you!"

"Take Prentiss," Hotch said, "and Morgan be careful," he added.

"There was no one home." Morgan said when they got back an hour later. "The neighbors said Drake lived in the house with his dad for the last 16 years. No one could remember what the story on the mom was, but she never lived there, and his dad died in a freak accident about six months ago. He fell off a ladder and smashed his head open."

"Bingo," Reid said quietly, writing on the board. "His kills started about five months ago."

"What else did you find out?" Hotch asked.

"He was home schooled, so none of the local kids ever got to know him. He didn't play sports. He was always a loner with his nose in a book." Prentiss shot a look Reids' way but he was staring at the white board with his back to her.

"Dad worked at home. A researcher of some sort although no one knew what he was working on." Morgan added.

"How to raise a psychopath?" Reid suggested.

Morgan grinned. Now that was pretty funny.

"And Drake senior owned a late model white Ford coupe," Prentiss added.

"Let's get an APB out and JJ we need a warrant for the house," he told her as she came into the room.

"Uh, Hotch? There's been an abduction. A sixteen year old girl. Katie Malone."

"Our unsub hasn't abducted anyone before. What makes the local police think it's -"

"He left a note...for Reid."

"For me?"

JJ nodded and passed it over.

"Dr. Reid," he read out loud. "I'm flattered you came to L.A. personally. I recognized you this afternoon in the alley. I liked the way you were so thorough...did you get my play on words yet? Rumor has it you're a genius. Me too. I wonder which one of us is smarter. You have until the appointed hour, in the appointed place to rescue this miserable piece of flesh before I toss her away.

Yours sincerely,

Mark Drake."

"Oh man," muttered Morgan.

"JJ we need that warrant, now!" Hotch barked. "Reid, when's the appointed hour?"

"If he keeps to his pattern... eight o'clock tonight."

"Which gives us less than three hours."

"And what about the appointed place?" Asked Tolliver. But no one answered, they were watching Reid who was staring intently at the images and words on the board in front of him.

"A play on words...," he said softly. "A play on words...a play on _words!_" He spun around and grabbing up a marker started drawing lines on a map of L.A.

"It's not _the_ Golden Rule...it's _a _golden rule... a golden s_pi-rule!..._a spiral!"

"I don't suppose you'd care to share with us what that is exactly?" asked Rossi.

"It's a logarithmic spiral where the distances between the turnings increase in a geometric progression," Reid said distractedly.

"Well that explains _everything!_"

"Except... except he used a Fibonacci curve," Reid continued, talking out loud to himself. "And although you can _plot_ a spiral using a Fibonacci sequence it isn't a true logarithmic spiral..." Reids' voice trailed off.

"Reid? In English?" Morgan requested.

Reid flapped a hand at him. "That was English..."

"Of course it was."

"The Golden Rule...Ha! Ha! Ha!...ha ha ha...what do you mean if you say ha ha ha?" Reid asked suddenly.

"You're making fun of someone, or something?" Prentiss answered staring at him like he was an idiot.

"Making fun of...something...," Reid repeated. "Making fun...making fun of the fact that if you plot a spiral using a Fibonacci sequence it won't have _arms!_" He said suddenly. "Only a true logarithmic spiral has arms!"

"Reid," Hotch said darkly.

"The _logarithmic_ spiral looks like a hurricane with arms spinning out from it -"

"And where there's a hurricane there's an eye," Hotch finished for him.

"Exactly!" Reid exclaimed and using a different colored marker he joined the murder sites in West Hollywood into a giant circle. The lines the murders on Ventura Boulevard, Santa Monica Boulevard and the cross jurisdictional murders made, trailed out from the circle exactly like the arms of a hurricane.

"But that puts the eye of your hurricane in the middle of a golf course!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"No!" Reid said impatiently. "That would be the center of an Archimedean spiral where the curve to the central point is a constant geometrical progression. The center of our golden spiral would be...near the Staples Center... which makes even less sense."

"Unless something happened there," said Rossi. "Reid, do you think this spiral thingy is planned or subconscious?"

"If it 's subconscious it would probably be based on something from his childhood. Garcia?" he asked speed dialing her on his phone, "check for anything that might have been traumatic for a child to have witnessed in or near the Staples Center say 15 to 20 years ago. If the center of the spiral represents something that happened it would have taken place during his formative years."

"We have a warrant!" interrupted JJ taking a piece of paper from a young officer who had just knocked on the closed conference room door.

"Reid," Hotch said as he signaled the team to follow him, "you're coming, too. Garcia, call us if you find anything."

"There is not a damn thing here that's telling me anything." Morgan said as they went through the house for the second time.

"Except these posters... don't they seem out of place to you? Why would a 24 year old man have posters from the circus on his walls?" Reid asked.

"Go ahead Garcia, you're on speaker." Hotch said answering his phone.

"I might have an answer to that, oh brilliant one. Sixteen years ago a trapeze artist was killed during a performance of the Ringling Brothers Circus at the Staples Center."

"Do you have any details of the injuries that killed him?" Reid asked.

"Let me... ugh, his head was smashed in."

"And a hundred to one Drake was sitting in the vicinity," said Rossi.

"And then six months ago he sees his father smash open _his_ head triggering a psychotic explosion." Prentiss concluded.

"Uh, guys? I just found out what Drake senior was researching all these years..." Reid said fingers flying down the pages of an old notebook. "And as it turns out, I hit the nail on the head."

The team gathered around him.

"He knew his son was a psychopath and he spent his life studying him. There are hundreds of notebooks here filled with his observations...and detailed descriptions of the killings they carried out together." Reid added looking up.

"Lovely," said Morgan, "a father son pair of psychopaths."

"I think we're done here." Hotch said quietly.

Back in the conference room Hotch glanced up at the clock. "We're running out of time. Reid, talk to us."

"He likes to play games. Complex, twisted games using logic and logarithms and ...words!" he muttered grabbing up the letter Drake had sent him. "Did you get my play on words," he read out loud. "A play on words...a play on words," he repeated again. "Not a hurricane!" he suddenly exclaimed. "A galaxy!"

"Uh, Reid? Hurricanes and galaxies, they aren't exactly the same thing." Morgan pointed out.

"No they're not! But they _are_ both used as examples of logarithmic spirals, and to see the stars you need an observatory and," he added turning to the map of L.A. again, "Griffith Park Observatory is on the edge of _his_ spiral... and it's closed today making it the perfect place to play out his game!"

"How the hell would you know it's closed on Mondays?" Tolliver asked.

"I went to college here."

"And now we know the place," breathed Hotch. "Detective, gather your men."

"JJ," Hotch went on, "get a hold of whatever authority controls the airspace over Griffith Park. Anyone flying over it will be subject to prosecution. Tolliver, I want the media kept so far away that anything they say will be speculation. Use your men to lock down the place. The only people I want anywhere near that building are SWAT and the BAU team. Any questions?"

Tolliver shook his head, no.

"Let's go, then." Hotch said grimly.

Thank you everyone for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying my sly sense of humor!

Sorry that I can't figure out how to make breaks between the sections...am using xxxxxxx's here - blech! If anyone knows how to do this for real I wouldn't mind a heads up and some directions!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

_ He watched them come, headlights gleaming, as they made the long drive across the park then fanned out across the parking lot. There were so many of them. He puffed his chest out with importance. Of course there were, how else could they hope to stop him? And they had arrived with minutes to spare, Dr. Reid had proved to be a worthy adversary. He wondered if he would be brave, too. Courage was such a nebulous thing. One could talk about it a great deal, but when push came to shove... he grinned. Well only time would tell._

_

* * *

_

They moved quickly through the darkened building, flashlights leading the way, casting grotesque shadows in front of them.

"He's on the right hand balcony," a voice said through their ear pieces. The BAU team broke to the right, the members of the SWAT team to the left moving more cautiously now, hearts pumping adrenaline. At the last turn in the stairwell they slowed perceptibly until only Hotch and Reid were still moving forward. At the top of the stairs Hotch broke to the left, Reid to the right only to stop dead. Across the balcony Drake stood grinning right in front of them, a knife held tightly to the girls' neck, blood beading up around it.

"Hello Dr. Reid," he said teeth bared in the semblance of a smile.

"Drake," Reid said, then softly he added, "Hello Katie," and tears welled up in her panic struck eyes.

"Drake," Hotch said calmly, "let the girl go."

Drake shook his head, his grin widening. "No, I don't think so... she's my bargaining chip."

"What is it you want?" Hotch asked, his voice clipped.

"First...I want you off this roof. Second, I want to see you and the three other agents in the stairwell walking back across the parking lot. Third, the same for the six men on the other balcony. What? You didn't think I'd noticed them? The only person who stays is Dr. Reid."

"No."

Drakes eyes darkened. "It's not negotiable." And very slowly he deepened the cut on the girls neck. "I'm sure Dr. Reid can tell you, if I cut much deeper she'll bleed out before you can rescue her." Drake said over the girls' scream. "Get off the roof now...you have until the count of three. One, two -" he laughed as Hotch dove for the stairwell as he started to say three.

"And now it's just us, Dr. Reid. Just the way I planned it. You won't be needing that," he added nodding at the gun in Reids' hand. "But you already knew that."

Slowly Reid set the gun down on the ledge beside him.

"Let the girl go," he said quietly. "You don't want her."

"No I don't." Drake agreed, looking quickly out at the parking lot below them. His smile deepened. He could see the men walking slowly back towards their vehicles. Faces peering anxiously up towards the balcony.

Seven, eight, nine, ten. All accounted for.

"What is it you really want?"

"You, Dr. Reid. You." He said simply.

"Noooooo!" Katie wailed. "He's going to kill you!"

"No. He won't," Reid told her quietly. "A dead FBI agent will only get him cut down in a hail of bullets. A live one will get him anything he wants."

"No," she sobbed. "He's got a gun, he's going to shoot you."

Reid glanced down at the hand Drake was holding against his leg and his heart sank.

"It's not a gun," he said quietly. "It's a taser."

"Verrry good." Drake purred. "Now why don't you tell our little Katie all about tasers, Dr. Reid? Why don't you tell her what her life is going to cost you? Why don't you tell her _why_ you're going to scream when I let her go?" Drakes' smile had turned feral. "Tell her, Dr. Reid. I know you know. You've been tasered before during FBI training and the pain you felt then when your muscles seized up and you couldn't breath is replaying through your mind as we speak. You know exactly the agony you're going to suffer."

"No!" Katie sobbed. "He isn't really going to let me go, he isn't – and he's going to _hurt_ you -"

"You have no idea." Drake agreed his grin widening. "Tell me something Dr. Reid. How many times in a row can a man take a taser charge before his muscles can't take it anymore? How many times does it take before he simply can't _breathe_ anymore?"

"Katie, listen to me," Reid said urgently, "That's _not_ how a taser works! It works by passing a short burst of current thru the muscles making them suddenly contract. The second the burst ends the muscles relax and the pain is over just like that. It _can not_ discharge continuously. At the very worst, the taser he's holding will discharge in seven second bursts. And yes, it's going to hurt, and I will probably scream when it hits me but it _can not_ kill me. And that's all that matters."

"Hotch, we need to get a guy up there now," Morgan said urgently. "EMD's were designed to take out drug crazed lunatics and battle hardened commandos – not a kid like Reid! I don't care what the hell he's telling that girl!"

"I've got a man almost there," said the SWAT team commander. "He's just at the edge of the building. If your agent can keep the subject engaged just a few minutes longer he should be able to make it undetected up onto the other balcony."

"Reid," Hotch said urgently into his two way, "you need to keep Drake talking. We need another two – three minutes to get a line on him."

"Such a pretty speech, Dr. Reid." Drake said smiling. "But you're wrong, you know. It _is_ going to matter. Because the pain you're going to feel when I turn _this_ taser on you is like nothing you've ever imagined. You see..._this_ taser has been...tweaked shall we say? Just a little. And to make sure you feel it's full effect you're going to take off that vest you're wearing."

"No." Reid said, shaking his head.

"No? Then I'm going to slit her _throat!"_ Drake yelled pressing the knife in even harder.

"No!" Reid cried out. "No! I'll...I'll do it -"

"What? The sight of blood makes you squeamish, does it?" Drake said amusedly. "The vest, Dr. Reid. I'm losing patience... Ah, much better."

"Captain, is your man in place yet?" Hotch demanded.

"He's working his way up the stairs now."

"Tell him he's cleared to shoot as soon as he can see the target."

"Any last words for Katie, Dr. Reid before I set her free?" Drake teased.

"Katie listen to me. No matter what you hear, you run straight down those stairs. And you keep right on running. Promise me?"

And with tears running down her face she whispered, "I promise."

"Then - _run, Katie, run!_" Drake yelled dropping the knife and raising the taser.

And Reid screamed.

Across the dark, a flash of light lit up the night and the man who was Mark Drake took two reeling steps forward. _Did they really think it was going to end so easily?_ He thought, as his face twisted into a leering grin of pain and malice. Numbing fingers clawed the air cartridge from the taser and with their final strength depressed a lever as a second bullet tore through him sending him to his knees. A nimbus of blue light lit up the end of the taser as a continuous charge of electricity poured through it.

_Ah Dr. Reid, you got it wrong, _Drake thought. _A taser _could_ discharge continuously, if you knew how to alter it. _ And with his last conscious thought he pressed the glowing muzzle against Reids' chest before falling down dead on top of him.

* * *

Ah suspense, drama...a little _electricity - _sorry, couldn't help myself!

I just wanted to thank you all for your reviews! My ego and I thank you all most kindly.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

* * *

Chapter 8

Morgan stood peering up through the brightly lit night. Up on the balcony he could just see Reids' tall, slender frame. Of Mark Drake he could see nothing at all. Beside him he could hear Hotch

murmuring into his wrist mic, he hoped Reid was listening to whatever it was that Hotch was saying.

_Damn it!_ Why was it always Reid who - and then the kid screamed and crumpled out of sight and Morgan was running even as a flash of blue and a muffled bang cut the night. The girl, Katie, came flying

out of the stairwell, tears streaming down her face. He heard Hotch yell, "Prentiss get her -" as he ran past, Hotch not a half step behind. A second bang cut the night. They took the stairs three at a

time, breathing hard, afraid of what they would find.

_Just let him be alive, just let him - _Morgan cleared the stairs and saw the fallen figure of the young man he thought of as his little brother. Saw the crumpled mass that was pressed on top of him.

"Reid!_ Reid!_" he called out, clearing the distance between them in seconds and yanking Drakes' dead body off of him. With a yell of anguish he kicked the still spluttering taser off of Reids' chest

before falling down on his knees beside him.

"Officer down!" Hotch yelled into the mic on his sleeve. "We need a medic,_ now!_"

Frantically Morgan began searching for a pulse.

A quiet cough, a mumbled, "M 'k," as the young genius opened his eyes and stared blearily up at him.

"Sure you are," Morgan agreed, relief coursing through him, but he could feel the trembling that shook Reid's body beneath his hand.

Another cough, the jerking of limbs as Reid tried to sit up.

"Hey! You're not going anywhere yet, kid!" Morgan said gently, pushing him back down as the medic appeared and crouched down across from him. "Not 'till you get an all clear!"

" 'm fine -" he protested.

"Reid." Hotch's stern voice stilled him. He closed his eyes, then opened them again suddenly as his mind kicked back in to gear.

"_Katie_!"

"Hey - she's gonna be o.k! Now just be still, kid," Morgan gently admonished.

_But -_

"Drake?"

"He's dead."

Reid closed his eyes, quiet for a moment before he said, "I was wrong."

"About what?"

Reid opened his eyes and looked up into the bemused expression on David Rossi's face.

"There wasn't any _way_ for you to know that Drake had a taser _or_ that he'd altered it!" Defended Morgan.

Reid shook his head, wishing the medic would be done already. He was fine, except for the fact that he couldn't stop shaking. He coughed again.

"The minute I saw it I knew he'd altered it."

"How?"

"It's what I would have done. An unaltered EMD would have only incapacitated me for, what, 5 seconds? And then what?" he shook his head.

"So what_ did_ you get wrong?" Rossi asked curiously.

"The profile." Reid answered simply. "I missed the most crucial part of it."

"That he was a paranoid narcissist." Hotch supplied.

"I should have recognized the signs -"

"You weren't the only one who missed it," Hotch said firmly.

"What difference does it make?" asked Tolliver having made it up on to the roof just in time to hear the young man berating himself.

"It placed Reid in unacceptable danger."

Tolliver shook his head, confused.

"A paranoid narcissist is convinced that he's omnipotent, that he's smarter than everyone else, " Hotch explained. "They idealize their own accomplishments and superiority and in doing so they become

sensitive to how others see them. When challenged by a person of equal or greater intelligence they tend to fly into what's called a narcissistic rage and lash out at the person they see as threatening

their own self worth. Drake saw in Reid a threat to his own superiority. By taking Katie hostage he was able to manipulate a situation where he knew he could get his rival alone and punish him."

"And it worked," added Rossi, "up to a point."

Tolliver raised his eyebrows and Rossi smirked. "Like most people, he underestimated Reid. Nice scream by the way," he added smiling softly.

"That wasn't real?" the surprised detective queried. When he'd heard Reid scream he'd figured it was real enough, after all, the guy didn't look like he could take a hit from a taser _without_ screaming.

"Why would I scream?" Reid asked puzzled.

Tolliver floundered for an answer. "I - you - but you _did_ scream!" he said finally, "you even told the girl you'd probably scream!"

"As a distraction." Reid agreed, completely misunderstanding what Tolliver had been implying. "In order to give SWAT a chance to do their job I needed Drake to be completely focused on me."

"That was good work," Hotch said quietly, "and now it looks like your ride's here," he added as a second medic appeared with a gurney.

"Hotch I'm fine, I don't need -"

"Dave, you and Morgan finish up here, I'll ride with Reid." Hotch continued ignoring his protesting younger agent, "you can meet us at the hospital when you're through."

"_Hotch _-"

"Hey, kid," Morgan said, patting Reids' shoulder, "give it a rest, o.k. You're going to the hospital. End of story, we'll see you there."

Hotch stayed with Reid in the tiny cubicle in the ER until his young agents painful modesty chased him away. It was bad enough that complete strangers were removing his clothing, but to be undressed

infront of Hotch - but Hotch had already known when it was time to leave. He'd been here, in the same situation with Reid, more times than he cared to count. He stepped outside, took a deep lungful

of the warm California night air and speed dialed the 9th number on his phone.

"He's alright," he said immediately when the call was answered. "He took a taser hit to the chest and is being checked out now. I'll insist he stays over night, but he really is alright."

A quiet sob, a steadying deep breath.

"Thank you," came the husky voice. "Oh god, Hotch, when I saw it was your number -"

"He really is alright, Molly. I just didn't want you to find out about it from one of the paparazzi."

"Where are you?"

"Cedars Sinai."

"Can I come?"

"I think that would probably be a good idea. Reid doesn't do hospitals very well. And he really isn't going to like it when I make him take a week off."

There was a pause.

"A week?" And Hotch smiled the beginning of an idea forming.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in it, more's the pity, I'm just borrowing them.

Epilogue

The following morning.

"Hey gorgeous," Molly said softly as Reid opened his eyes. "Remember me?"

"Ummm... the hairdresser?" he croaked, smiling at her.

"Sounds like our baby boy is feeling a whole lot better today," Morgan said sauntering into Reids' hospital room with a steaming hot cup of coffee.

"That better be for me," Reid said eyeing the cup.

"Nope!" Morgan said grinning. "No stimulants for you for another day or two, kid. That jolt of electricity you took was about equal to being hit by a Mack truck as far as your body's concerned."

"Thanks for reminding me..." Reid mumbled grumpily before adding, "so how much did you win off of me in the 'Reid Lottery' this time?" And he couldn't help smiling at the genuine surprise that crossed

Morgan's face. "What, you didn't think I knew about it?"

Morgan shook his head and grinned back. "Believe it or not, getting tasered wasn't even on the list."

"I can't believe you guys place bets on what's going to happen to Reid next!" Molly exclaimed.

"Wait, _you_ know about the list?"

"Everyone knows about the list," Hotch said coming into the room.

"Personally, I would have had being tasered on there someplace," Rossi added coming in after him.

"See, I _told _you, Morgan, but would you listen? _Noooo!_" Prentiss said following Rossi in with JJ right behind her. "I could have won a fortune!"

"I love you, too, guys." Reid said smiling at them.

"Why?" Molly asked, which made everyone laugh.

Then for a minute it was quiet.

"I guess this is the part where you tell me you're leaving, right?" Reid asked quietly.

"Someone has to work, kid," Morgan said nodding.

"Besides, it's not like you'll be alone," Hotch added. "Molly has graciously agreed to babysit you for the next two weeks... on a private Caribbean island, I believe."

_What?_

Oh, now that was cruel, Morgan thought, looking at Hotch with open admiration.

"I don't... understand," Reid said looking from Hotch to Molly.

"You will," Prentiss said patting his hand.

"You're standing me down?" He asked Hotch in disbelief.

"No, I'm not standing you down!"

"Reid! It's called a vacation!" Morgan exclaimed exasperatedly. "No one's punishing you!"

"But – what are we going to do for _two weeks_... on an island?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Rossi said shaking his head. "Be kind," he added, winking at Molly. "I'm not sure Reid has much experience when it comes to _vacationing_."

* * *

Thanks for being so patient while I finished this...sorry it took so long, sometimes life just gets in the way!

Stay tuned for more Reid and Molly, some mini stories are on the way, I hope you enjoy them!

Reviews, comments, emails always appreciated!


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